Kim rewarded his manager's confidence by striking out the side in the eighth. New York first baseman Tino Martinez, who had never faced Kim or studied videotapes of him, watched that inning in a video room off the clubhouse. "It helped a lot," Martinez said. "I had a good idea of what he had." In the ninth, with right-fielder Paul O'Neill (who had singled) on first and two outs, Martinez crushed the first pitch he saw from Kim, a fastball, for a game-tying homer. Brenly left Kim in the game for 2 innings and 62 pitches, long enough to serve up one more homer, a game-winner in the 10th by Derek Jeter. "BK throws every day he throws a lot of pitches every day," Brenly said later in explaining why he left his reliever in the game that long. "It wasn't really pushing him beyond what he can do."
One night later, in Game 5, Arizona returned as if by homing device to the fateful coordinates of Game 4: ninth inning, two outs, a Yankee (catcher Jorge Posada, who had doubled) on base, a two-run lead, Kim pitching. Isn't the safest place in a storm the scorched spot where lightning has already struck? This time Brosius connected with an inviting slider from the Arizona closer, meeting it so solidly he threw up his arms in triumph before he had a chance to drop his bat.
How could this be? In 567 World Series games since 1903, only once had a batter—Tom Tresh of the '64 Yankees—rescued his team from two runs down in the bottom of the ninth with a two-out home run. Now the Yankees had done it in consecutive games? It made no sense. It was like finding out that the Hope Diamond has a twin. "I couldn't speak," said Yankees reliever Mike Stanton, who watched from the bullpen as Brosius's ball fell into the leftfield seats. "I had to catch my breath. I really did."
From there it seemed it was only a matter of how the Yankees would choose to finish off the Diamondbacks. Arsenic, hemlock or lye this time? For variation's sake, they waited until the 12th inning to employ a one-out, RBI single by rookie second baseman Alfonso Soriano off righthander Albie Lopez as the finishing piece of a 3-2 victory. "One time? Yeah. But twice? It's beyond anything you could imagine," Arizona lefthander Brian Anderson said.
Schilling had given a witty preamble to the Series in which he dismissed mystique and aura, the intangibles often attributed to the Yankees' way of winning, as "dancers in a nightclub." A New York fan responded in Game 5 with a classic rejoinder in poster form: MYSTIQUE & AURA. APPEARING NIGHTLY! "I'm Starting to wonder," Anderson said, when asked if he believed that there were unseen forces behind the Yankees' success. "I've been watching games a long time, and I've never come close to seeing anything like that. You know they're a talented ball club that plays hard for 27 outs, but...I don't know. All I know is, we need to get out of this place. Fast."
Kim, after serving up the homer to Brosius, slumped into a crouch at the foot of the mound, limp with anguish. When he straightened up, he appeared on the verge of tears. Catcher Rod Barajas, shortstop Tony Womack and Grace, who put an arm on Kim's shoulder, administered a kind of emotional CPR. Brenly went out to get his young pitcher this time. "I hope he's O.K. as far as his future goes," third baseman Matt Williams said.
On the chartered plane back to Phoenix that morning, Kim dealt with the twin defeats the way he does most everything else: He slept. Last year his teammates sneaked off a bus to a ballpark while Kim was sleeping, handing the bus driver cab money for Kim for when he awoke alone at the bus depot.
Brenly professed to retain faith in Kim, though he wouldn't use him again in the Series—not that he was needed in the ridiculousness of Game 6. Arizona set a Series record with 22 hits in a 15-2 rout, with Johnson on the mound for seven innings and 104 pitches. Brenly might have removed him after five innings but said he wanted to keep Johnson in "until the game was well in hand." The lead was 15-0 after four. Brenly presumably was worried that New York would go to the shotgun and a hurry-up offense. "We've ridden the big guys all year long," Gonzalez said of Schilling and Johnson after Game 6. "Now we need to do it one more time."
Schilling had been so sore the day after pitching Game 4 that he wondered if he could go in Game 7, which would be his third start in nine days. Each day between starts, however, he had a full body massage from Russell Nua, a silver-haired, ponytailed Hawaiian of Samoan heritage who has worked with Arizona's 42-year-old righthander, Mike Morgan, for 10 years. "Mo Man has been pitching for 23 years and never ices his arm," Schilling said. "That's good enough for me. After a couple of days with Russell, I felt great."
Johnson, too, was fighting fatigue. He pitched throughout the World Series with a corset around his midsection to alleviate the pain from an aching back. "Just wear and tear from the season," he said.